


My Angel

by ActuallyRocketRaccoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8.17, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, Goodbye Stranger, M/M, One-Shot, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyRocketRaccoon/pseuds/ActuallyRocketRaccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the incident with the Angel Tablet, Cas is overwhelmed by memories of his time under Naomi's control. Unsure, he turns to the only person he can trust. Destiel one-shot, spoilers for 8.17, fluff abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Angel

_“What broke the connection?”_  
Castiel squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block the sound of Dean’s voice from his head. The light of the Angel Tablet still glared behind his eyelids, and memories of the last twelve hours flashed through his mind. His reunion with the Winchesters had been sudden, like being submerged in ice-cold water, and each event that followed seemed just as rushed and confusing. Then again, the angel mused, his mind had been under Naomi’s control for most of that time; perhaps his brainwashed state had contributed to the blurred way his memories appeared.  
There were only a few images that stood out clearly in Cas’s mind, and each one was more painful to recall that the last. Dean’s face, battered and bloody, his eyes searching for some hint of recognition from the angel; the look of utter terror that washed over his friend’s face when Cas reached out to heal him. He still thought I was going to kill him. As though I could ever hurt him…  
Castiel sighed, opening his eyes and gazing out the plastic window of the bus. The rush of tires on asphalt was a constant white noise, and though he knew it was only his imagination, the angel swore he heard Dean’s voice echoing back from it:  
 _“Cas, please… it’s me… I need you…”_  
His vessel’s teeth ground together sharply, sending sharp pain through the angel’s head. It stayed, a constant pounding against his still-unfamiliar human temples. He shut his eyes once more, pressed his hands to his forehead, tried to drown out the throbbing and the light and the constant whispers that had haunted him since he fled from his friends, fled from the searching green eyes bearing into his soul and the angry, frightened, pleading whispers and everything was Dean, Dean, Dean…  
In an instant, Castiel was gone, leaving behind confused bus patrons, and the constant swoosh of rubber on gravel.

***

“Dean, come look at this.”  
The hunter glanced over from his sizzling pan of bacon. Sam was squinting at an open book and pointing to something on the page. “I looked up Naomi like you asked,” he explained. “According to this journal, she was one of the Sisters of Fate. Metatron bought out her services in the third century BC, and tricked her into staying in heaven for eternity. It says that over time, Metatron and the other archangels corrupted Naomi’s mind, and she began to believe that she was one of them. Her sisters tried to win her back a few times, but she refused to go with them.”  
Sam looked up at his brother, who had walked over and was staring blankly at the book. “Last time she was on earth, when this journal was written, she was completely committed to Heaven’s cause. “Hey, you alright?”  
Dean shook his head quickly and blinked, looking up from the yellowed pages. “Uh, yeah. Fine. Thanks, Sam.”  
“No problem.” Sam was still worried, but if Dean didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to push him. “Dude, shouldn’t you check your bacon?”  
Dean swore loudly and ran back into the kitchen. After the incident with the Angel Tablet, the brothers had retreated back to the Men of Letters’ bunker, unsure of what their next move should be. Sam set to researching everything he could about Naomi and the Tablet, while Dean focused on his number one concern: dinner.

***

The elder Winchester was just flipping the last batch of bacon onto a paper plate to dry when Castiel arrived. Dean felt more than he heard the telltale flap of wings, and when he spun around, brandishing a dishtowel, the angel was standing quietly beside him. He glared at Cas, waving the towel threateningly. “Dude, what gives? I thought you were all about ‘protecting the tablet’ now. Why are you here? And another thing, how did you even get in? This bunker is full-on angel-proofed!”  
Cas, for his part, didn’t move, save to tilt his head in confusion. “I didn’t feel any barriers. I simply locked onto your location, and… here I am.” The angel shrugged lightly, as though this explained everything.  
“And _here you are?_ ” Dean repeated.  
“You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.  
“No shit, Sherlock. Even I know that’s not how your little angel elevator works. You don’t just think of someone and _poof,_ you’re there. So tell the truth, why did you come back?”

***

 _He doesn’t want me here._  
Cas blinked, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t sure how he had reached Dean, or why he had given in to the urge to see him, but he had been certain of one thing: Dean would welcome him. Now that that wasn’t the case, the angel didn’t know what to do.  
Dean’s voice interrupted his panicked thoughts: “Hey, Cas, are you okay?”  
Cas nodded, though he wasn’t sure how truthful that was. “Yes, I’m fine.”  
“Bullshit.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You’re not fine. I can tell. Know why?” Cas shook his head mutely.  
“’Cause I said the same thing to Sammy just a few minutes ago. And you know what?” another shake of his head. “I wasn’t fine. I was freaking out. I didn’t know where you’d gone or why you’d left, and I felt like friggin’ crap ‘cause I let you play that bitch Naomi’s ass-puppet for so long— shit, man, I had no idea what happened to you. I was really worried, and you just up and left, what the hell was I supposed to do?”  
Dean fell silent, clenching his teeth and watching Cas with the same look that had driven the angel back to him. Cas could see that he was hurting. _That makes two of us._  
“Well… I’m here now.” He murmured, unsure.  
Dean grinned suddenly, clapping Cas on the back and snorting with laughter. “Yeah, looks like you are. Sit down, I’ll make you a burger.”  
Cas glanced around. There were no chairs in the kitchen, and leaving Dean to go into the other room suddenly seemed a terrifying prospect. His fingers curled around the sleeves of his coat, trying to stem the sudden panic welling up in his chest. “I… I think I’ll stay here, if that’s okay.”  
“Sure, suit yourself.” With that, dean turned his back on the angel, rooting in the fridge for the ground beef.

***

As Dean cooked the newly made burger patty, he could feel Cas shifting about behind him. Glancing over, he caught the angel’s gaze. His was staring solemly at Dean, standing stock still, so close that when Dean turned their noses nearly brushed.  
“Woah!” The Winchester jerked back, colliding with the stove. “Dude, stop doing that.”  
“Sorry.” Cas seemed genuinely apologetic. Dean frowned at the uncharacteristic worry his friend was expressing; he seemed weak somehow, unsure of himself. The thing with Naomi must have really rattled him, Dean mused. As he flipped the burger onto a bun, he glanced to his side, to see Cas gazing blankly down at it. “Come on, dude, lets get you situated.”  
A few minutes later, Cas sat close by Dean’s side at the table, hunched over in his coat and quietly nibbling at his burger. Dean fussed over the angel, constantly asking if he wanted anything else and making sure he wiped the burger greese off his face. Sam watched the pair closely. After a few minutes, he decided to speak up.  
“Dean, he’s not a stray kitten. Calm down and let him eat.”  
His brother glared at him. “I’m totally calm. I’m not doing anything!”  
“Right.” Sam rolled his eyes, but let it go. Dean had a right to be worried. Instead, he changed the subject to more pressing matters. “So Cas, where’s the Tablet?”  
The angel nodded to a small cloth bag on the table. “It’s in there. I was going to hide it, but if this place really is angel and demon proof, it should be safe with you for now.”  
Sam nodded. “Fair enough. Anyhow, you guys, it’s pretty late. I’m gonna hit the sack.” He stood, stretched, and headed off to the room behind the library he had claimed when they first found the bunker.  
Dean hummed in agreement and got up to go. “He’s right, I’m pretty bushed. What’s your plan?”  
Cas shrugged, finishing off the last of his burger. “I suppose I’ll stay here. We can talk about the Tablet tomorrow.”  
Dean hesitated and turned back. “So, does that mean you’re gonna stay with us?” His eyes were hopeful.  
“Yes, I think I will.” Cas gave his friend a rare smile. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be a hunter after all.”  
Dean grinned. “Sure thing, dude. See you tomorrow.”

***

As it turned out, it was only a few hours before they saw each other again. Cas sat quietly at the table for as long as he could stomach, but something felt wrong. As soon as Dean was gone, the visions from before began to return, and he could hear the thud of his own fists against his friend’s skull echoing in his head. This must be what nightmares feel like, the angel thought frantically, as the fuzzy memory of his blade sinking into the dream-Dean’s flesh made his skin crawl. Naomi had forced Cas to kill his favorite human over fifty times, and he had done it without hesitation. Now, the thought made him sick.  
Castiel could only it for so long before he snapped. Though he tried not to run, the angel was most definitely hurrying as he wove his way through the rows of bookshelves and filing cabinets to Dean’s room. Without knocking, the angel slipped inside and shut the door silently behind him. The hunter was sprawled out on his side in bed, facing the room, eyes closed and arms hanging over the side of his matress. He snored lightly, and his eyelids flickered lightly, deep in dreamland. Castiel only hesitated a moment.  
Taking off his coat and tie and placing them silently on the floor, the angel slipped into his friend’s bed. He curled into Dean’s chest and pulled the hunter’s arms around himself like a shield. Angels don’t sleep, but Cas let the calm of Dean’s slumber wash over him, until he entered a similar state of relaxation himself. The blankets were warm, Dean’s arm was a comforting weight along his waist, and the blurred, bloody visions were quickly fading. In his tired mind, Cas assured himself that now, nothing could hurt his human.

***

Dean woke up some time later to the sight of the angel cuddled against him, half-lidded eyes watching him calmly. He grinned to himself; some dream. Aloud, he muttered, “Mom always said angels were watching over me.”  
Cas frowned. “There are no such thing as guardian angels,” he replied quietly. “Most humans don’t know we exist, and no angel would devote his life solely to a single human.”  
“Guess we’re the exceptions to that rule,” Dean snorted, his voice heavy with sleep. Unthinkingly, he pulled Cas closer to himself, tucking his face into the angel’s shoulder and running a hand through his friend’s hair. “If they did exist, would you be mine?”  
“No matter what the situation, I am always yours.” Cas didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but he knew it was true.  
Dean smiled into his neck. “Damn right,” he muttered. “You’ll always be my angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> And in the morning Sam came in to wake up Dean, and went "Yep, I knew they would fuck." The End.
> 
> Seriously though, hope you enjoyed. This is my first time writing for the fandom, so it's OOC and cheesy as fuck, but I couldn't NOT attempt something after that last episode! Please R&R, and if you have an idea for a story, message me on tumblr (beam-me-up-assbutt)!


End file.
